


When you need a Dragonlord

by Camelittle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Has A Thing For Merlin's Dragonlord Voice, BAMF!Merlin, Dragonlord!Merlin, Dragons, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Smut, Gwen who?, Hey Pendragons Are Dragons Too, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Phallic Symbolism Like Whoa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/pseuds/Camelittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has banished Merlin for saving his life with magic, and is missing him more than he cares to admit. Meanwhile a dragon is ravaging Camelot. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these boys, or the dragon, or the myths. I'm just playing. 
> 
> Originally posted on LJ, this was my first fic in the fandom. I'm late to the party, I know.

The dragon's tail was white, encrusted with diamonds. Her wings were delicate, a tracery of veins picked out in pale pink. Her claws were long, and sharp. Her fire was hot, and her hunger was deep. 

Above all else she was lonely. She craved to hear a voice she had once heard, to feel the fingers that had tickled her ridges before she had become hungry, and lost. 

The dragon sought her master, sought his warm words and his clever hands. Remembered the name of the place where he had been. 

Camelot. She would seek him there. Camelot was the place.


	2. When you miss your manservant a little bit too much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur was beginning to realise that banishing his best friend had been a bad idea.

**When you miss your manservant a little bit too much**

 

Waking, dreamlike, Arthur could almost believe that things were all right again, but as he raised one bleak eyelid and focused on the face of the nervous manservant who had brought his breakfast, and who clearly was NOT Merlin, the chill returned. Arthur rolled out of bed and glared bleakly at the servant but couldn't bring himself to speak. What was the point? With Gwen gone as well, there was no-one he could really talk to any more. 

Of course, he had not had any choice about banishing Merlin once that pathetic excuse for a sorcerer had performed magic in front of the entire court. Arthur had been secretly impressed when Merlin, glacial eyes flashing gold, struck down the would-be assassin with a single deep-spoken word. In fact (if we're going to admit secret feelings), when Arthur heard Merlin speak with such power and authority, that commanding voice knifed shockingly into his guts, his blood surged to his groin in a sudden erection, and the memory of its charisma now made him feel confusingly weak-kneed and aroused, which did not improve his temper.  
  
There could be no place for magic at Camelot as Merlin himself had admitted not so long ago. And so the King had swallowed his treacherous secret feelings and had banished his friend, and now a hollow feeling clawed and sucked at his empty, aching heart.   
  
By day he could almost bring himself to forget Merlin's absence, as he was caught up in the maelstrom of court politics and diplomacy, although his temper was disgusting and his voice was rarely heard at anything less than a bellow. But by night he brooded and lay restless, wakeful and alert for the footfall that never came. His knights tolerated his difficult mood, thinking he was missing Gwen. But truth be told he had hardly noticed her absence. It was Merlin's wide smile he saw before him as he drifted towards sleep, Merlin's reproachful glare that chided him awake, the perfect blue of Merlin's eyes that flashed before him as he comforted himself with his hand under the covers, rubbing himself frantically to a sticky climax, the memory of Merlin's voice of power whispering in his ears. Merlin's absence punctuated every breath. Gods! Had that ridiculous warlock placed a spell on him? The King groaned his frustration as he ground his needy, fist-encircled crotch into his bedclothes, tight buttocks tensing and relaxing, hips spasming in the dark, tears damp on his pillow, and wished he could roar for Merlin simply so that he could throw his soiled bedclothes at Merlin's disgustingly perfect face.   
  
And in the still dark of night there was nothing to stop the growing realisation that he owed this man everything; his life, his kingdom, his wife, his sword, his self belief, his clean laundry damnit. Without Merlin, Arthur now knew, he would be nothing but a dead, royal brat wearing dirty clothes and battered armour. Merlin had hinted at personal sacrifices he'd made along the way but Arthur hadn't listened, hadn't bothered to find out anything about Merlin's life. He had rewarded such extraordinary loyalty and courage with angry words, rejection and exile, and the shame he felt at his own betrayal haunted Arthur's every moment.   
  
But now he had to rise and face the day. Truth be told, he was grateful to have a focus other than his grief and confusion. A white dragon, probably the one that had lately been seen with Morgana, had been terrorising Camelot. The townsfolk had all but fled, and he had sent Gwen away for her own safety. The council would meet at dawn to debate how to get rid of the dragon and bring back the townsfolk.  
  
Although that bunch of wooden-headed idiots at court didn't seem to have any ideas about how to get rid of an indestructible magical creature.


	3. Be careful what you wish for.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys spend some time reacquainting themselves in this chapter, but slowly - after all, this is all uncharted territory for them. It all gets a bit fluffy and there's some gratuitous phallic symbolism.

**Be careful what you wish for.**  

 

Arthur reddened, vein throbbing angrily in his temple as his knights shuffled nervously. He yelled another pithy tirade of abuse  at their collective uselessness and threatened them all with a night in the stocks, although his heart wasn't really in it.

 

_Its no fun yelling at this lot, they never answer back. No backbone whatsoever._

He didn't want to think too hard about the one person who would once have challenged his foul behaviour. 

"Gaius"

"Sire"

Gaius had been monosyllabic since Merlin's departure. Arthur could understand his feelings, Merlin had been like a son to Gaius over the years, and the old physician rightly blamed Arthur for his absence. But it was time to set sentiment aside. Arthur leant across the round table, slapped his hands down hard, and hissed menacingly through his teeth. Gaius's cheek twitched.

"Give. Me. An. Answer", Arthur growled. 

Gaius sighed and looked at his folded hands. "There is... an answer. But you're not going to like it, Sire," he said quietly. "When the  
last Dragonlord died..."

"Balinor". Arthur remembered Merlin's reaction to his death.

_Merlin's tears. Flashing eyes. Power. The voice. That commanding voice. Burning into his very soul. Damnit. Need to focus on something other than Merlin._

"Yes, Balinor. Rumour has it that a son survived and inherited his power; this man is now the last Dragonlord; you must seek this man's help. But be careful Arthur, he is a dangerous sorcerer and not well disposed to Camelot". 

"Gaius, can you find him?"

"I think so, but getting him to help us is another matter altogether."

Arthur sighed and gestured round at his desperate men, his denuded court. "Gaius, I don't think I have a choice. Find this great sorcerer and promise him whatever it takes." 

Gaius bent down low at the waist, and whispered grimly across the table "Even if that means lifting the ban on magic, sire?" 

Arthur looked down at the table, to calm his thudding heart, swallowed, and lifted his eyes to Gaius. "Even that, yes." 

A few days later the council were sitting late one night. The dragon's predations had continued; much of Camelot lay in ashes. Arthur had taken to brooding, clenched fists on the table. This did not make for a comfortable discussion. Leon attempted to enliven the conversation by describing an amusing incident that took place that morning in the training ground, involving a horse, a length of rope and Percival's breeches. The conversational gambit did not go well. 

Suddenly the gates of Camelot burst open. A gust of icy wind, accompanied by an echo of scattering leaves, extinguished all the torches. A dark figure stood in the doorway, shrouded in shadow, hooded in black, face hidden beneath the hood. All the knights jumped to their feet, reaching for their swords. Arthur rose slowly, eyes fixed on the cloaked figure, hand on his sword, heart hammering. 

"Greetings, stranger" said Arthur warily, sword partly unsheathed. "Who are you and what brings you to Camelot at this dark time?"

The stranger's answer was a single sentence of command, spoken in a strange compelling language. Deep within the hood eyes flashed fiery yellow. The knights froze, immovable, unseeing, mid-gesture, caught in a powerful spell; Arthur alone was not trapped, but his body thrilled with recognition and anticipation at that velvety voice, skin tingling, every muscle tensed; his penis swelled, tautening his breeches painfully. Arthur's mouth was dry, tongue stuck to the top of his mouth; only one person had ever elicited that visceral response with his voice alone. 

The stranger walked slowly, gracefully, towards Arthur, each footstep booming across the court, and spoke, softly, so that Arthur had to bend towards him to hear his words and strain his eyes against the dark to see his face. Arthur fully unsheathed Excalibur and dropped it as it burned bright and hot with magic.  

"I am the dragonlord Emrys. I have returned."

"I know who you are," said Arthur hoarsely, legs trembling, hoping his rock-hard cock didn't make his tunic protrude too much.

At that, the dragonlord drew back the hood of his cloak and Arthur gazed wild-eyed at his face. Merlin, wreathed in magic, blue-black hair slicked back from his face was both beautiful and fearsome; older, weary, his once clean-shaven face peppered with dark stubble, eyes black and flickering with the flame of magic. "I have returned," he repeated. The familiar cloak of clumsiness and gaucheness had fallen away from Merlin and he moved with quiet poise to stand close to Arthur, close enough to touch. How could Arthur have misjudged his friend so badly? 

Arthur impulsively flung open his arms. "Merlin" he said, face lighting up with relief and hope and unspeakable joy. "Merlin" he said again, more quietly with his eyes welling with unbidden tears. "Merlin" he choked, hands grasping his former servant's shoulders, eyes searching Merlin's face. And deeply, gruffly, the right words came to Arthur without effort. "Can you ever forgive me?"

And then as Merlin's words finally registered Arthur then gasped, "YOU? A  dragonlord? You can't even ride a HORSE without falling off."

Finally Merlin's face cracked a lopsided smile. "Arthur, I did say I could do all sorts of things you don't know about!"

Arthur decided to try to gloss over the awkwardness of his guilt with furious reprimand, knowing joyously that Merlin would give as good as he got.

"Don't you EVER run away from Camelot again or I will have you put in the stocks and I will PERsonally pelt you with ROTTEN turnips you CABbage-headed...". He punctuated each statement with a shake of Merlin's sinewy shoulders, secretly enjoying the feeling of warmth and hidden power under his hands. 

"I'd like to see you try. Sire. And RUN AWAY? Aren't you forgetting you had me BANISHED on pain of death? You really are a spoilt, rude, arrogant, pompous..."

"You may be a sorcerer but you're also an unbeLIEVably bad servant and I have to say I didn't miss your clumsy antics AT ALL."

"There you go again. I can fix your little dragon problem with a wave of my hand, turn your court into amphibians at the blink of an eye, and all you can do is abuse me."

"That's because you are THE worst, most insubordinate..."

"You missed me didn't you?"

"Well... I miss a toothache when it's not annoying me any more."

During this exchange Arthur's mouth twitched up a smile. So did Merlin's. And then the two of them were laughing and weeping, arms hugged tight round each others' shoulders, foreheads touching, bodies shaking in the darkness as the sightless, silent enchanted knights stood frozen in sharp relief all around.

It was such a small step from a brotherly embrace into something more tender, trembling fingers probing faces, necks, and hair.

"Merlin" murmured Arthur shocked at his own sincerity. "It destroyed me, sending you away. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you came back. I need you and your impossible ears, and ridiculously blue eyes, and idiotic wisdom here by my side."

Merlin exhaled sharply, staring at Arthur with his characteristic mixture of admiration and scepticism tinged with something else that had always been there but that Arthur hadn't recognised before, something he needed so desperately he didn't dare to name it.

"Arthur, you stupid, stupid man" he whispered, swallowing, long fingers gently stroking Arthur's cheek,  tracing his blond lashes, scoring a burning trail of magic and desire onto Arthur's golden skin. "I am back, and I am yours, always have been, always will be; I will never leave your side. And if you ever try to send me away again then I really, really will turn you into a frog."

And then Arthur named it, and returned it, but secretly. (Love?)

The two men smiled at each other as Arthur gently pressed the tears from Merlin's high cheekbones with his thumbs. "Mine, always." Arthur whispered, chilled heart finally thawing. Merlin's open lips drew closer. Arthur felt Merlin's hot breath entering his mouth in a shallow sigh, breathed in the heady mixture of woodsmoke and caked-on sweat that clung to Merlin's hair, and closed that finite distance, mouth to mouth, desiring to entwine his very being with Merlin's; breath, body and soul.

And he named it again in his heart. Love. 

Their lips brushed together gently and their eyes locked as they kissed, tentatively, warily and then insistently, open-mouthed and greedy, eyelids fluttering closed. Arthur grasped Merlin's taut backside with one hand, the other buried in the black hair that gathered on the nape of Merlin's neck, and he pressed himself hard up against him. Merlin exhaled sharply and moaned, hands drawing maddening magical patterns on Arthur's back, clever fingers slipping gently into the gaps between Arthur's clothes, seeking the cracks and crevices between the muscles of his buttocks and thighs, etching heat and desire onto his skin. 

Love, and passion, and all-consuming need.

Arthur could feel the insistent length of Merlin's hard prick bulge against his groin, the mirror of his own aching tumescence, and as the two of them rubbed and bumped each other frantically through their clothes, tongues entwined, they both knew then that there were no more secrets between them. Arthur lowered his mouth to Merlin's neck, and searched frantically with his hands, groaning as he found slender waist, hips, thighs, hot flesh. Merlin's dextrous fingers finally broke through Arthur's defences freeing his tremendous erection, wet with pre-come, grasping it with one hand, rubbing himself rhythmically with the other. Arthur cried out in triumph and Excalibur, lying discarded on the floor, burned fierce and bright.  

And then the alarm sounded. The dragon was attacking Camelot again.The two men broke apart, wits scattered for a moment with unspent lust.  

Arthur, ever the man of action hastily reassembled himself, jamming his rock-hard prick down into his sweaty breeches, and gestured to the ensorcelled knights as the sound of running footsteps clattered round and about the castle. "You'd better release them from their spell Merlin. And he lowered his voice, rich in desire, smirking, flirtatious. "You can release me later." 


	4. On the summoning of dragons, Pendragons and so forth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin employs some ancient magic to save Camelot, and overexerts himself a little in the process. Arthur is seriously impressed.

**On the summoning of dragons, Pendragons and so forth**

Merlin covered his head and rekindled the torches around the room before waking the rest of the knights with a gesture. The knights sprang towards him, swords raised, not knowing his identity, but Arthur grabbed Excalibur and stilled them with a glance.

"Knights of Camelot, know that this is Emrys, sorcerer and dragonlord. He has answered Camelot's need on condition that we reconsider the ban on magic in the kingdom. The alarm is ringing, the dragon is here. The dragonlord has agreed to aid us in ridding Camelot of this scourge. Follow me now and let's make an end to this".  And to my embarrassing and somewhat inexplicable erection. 

"Sire is it wise to trust a sorcerer?" Leon strode up with a concerned frown and a suspicious glance at the black-clad spellcaster. Arthur laughed, which made Leon even more concerned; he hadn't seen the King laugh for weeks, and was convinced that the sorcerer, whoever he was, had cast a spell on Arthur.

"Wise? The wisest person I know once told me that there is no evil in magic, only in the hearts of men," stated Arthur, mischief playing around his mouth. "Emrys, reveal yourself before Leon thinks you've enchanted me and rewards you with a sword to the stomach."

Merlin sighed and dropped the hood, accompanied by gasps and murmurs of surprise from the gathered knights as Arthur strode hurriedly off towards the source of the alarm call, yelling commands over his shoulder. 

"Well come ON Merlin"

"As polite as ever I see" 

Arthur rolled his eyes. 

"Come ON great dragonlord Emrys then".

"Better. Not perfect, but better."

The King pelted up staircases towards the roof and was surprised  when Merlin kept pace with him, stride for stride.

"Have you been training Merlin? You used to run like a girl"

"Plenty of girls can run really fast"

"Not the ones you ran like"

"Arthur, the simple truth is that it's difficult for me not to use magic, and that makes me clumsy"  

"So this is the real you"

"Yes." A tooth-flashing grin.  "Told you you were underestimating me."

Arthur grunted, weighed down by his sword and struggling to keep pace damnit. The two men emerged onto the roof and were confronted with a terrible sight: All around them Camelot burned, and terrified voices keened, as the white dragon passed low over the citadel, flaming intermittently. Behind them knights clattered up the stairs, Gwaine at their head, followed at a distance by a panting Gaius. 

"Gwaine, keep the rest of them away. Merlin and I will confront the dragon. I don't want any more of my knights getting burned."

"But sire! Let me go in front, we can't afford to lose the king."

"Merlin will protect me. He's been protecting me for some time, haven't you Merlin."

"Only about 10 years. Gwaine - I've been burned, pierced, poisoned, stung, tortured and enchanted but so far haven't managed to get Arthur killed yet, and I'm not intending to let that happen any time soon. Arthur is right, you had better let us deal with the dragon alone, and don't let the rest of them up here til either Arthur or I call your name."

Gwaine opened his mouth to raise more objections but swallowed his reservations and turned away, slamming and bolting the door from the inside, leaving the King and his enchanter alone on the outside. Above them the dragon wheeled and turned, sensing the new threat, white hot fire blasting from its tooth-encrusted mouth. 

"Gods Merlin, you have to DO something"

"Arthur, you may want to cover your ears"

"WHAT?"

"I haven't got time to explain, just that you might find this... uncomfortable"

Arthur folded his arms, determined not to miss the spectacle. Merlin grinned.

"Will you ever do what I say?"

"No."

Merlin's smile widened. "I wouldn't count on that if I were you." Arthur's mouth fell open in mock terror. 

And then the dragon was nearly upon them. Merlin drew in his breath to chant the incantation. 

" _O Dragon!_ " he began, hand outstretched, his voice pregnant with power as he stood silhouetted against the burning walls, shouting down the dragon. And if Arthur thought his reaction to Merlin's magic was strong before, he was totally unprepared for this. It was as if a sleeping dragon in his belly awoke and danced to the rhythm of Merlin's speech, turning and swirling, growing and surging relentlessly into his engorged knob; even his hair stood on end, follicles thrilling to the cadence of command. "Fuck!" he screamed, as he staggered and fell to his knees, bent double around his prick, hands fumbling to free it before it consumed him. 

The dragon turned and swooped on Merlin, enveloping him in deadly fire. "Merlin, FUCK NO!" Arthur yelled in terror that he might lose Merlin again, and struggled painfully back to his feet, bent at the waist, glowing sword held aloft towards the dragon, mirroring his bolt-upright and now-free cock. The creature's flame died away, and it alighted on the wall, and still Merlin stood unharmed and dreadful before it. Arthur, relieved that his friend had not been consumed by the flames, stood, heart in mouth, one fist grasping his sword, the other massaging his swollen knob, overwhelmed with fear and desire, awe and curiosity.

Merlin spoke quietly to the dragon, crooning, seductive; Arthur felt like hundreds of soothing hands were whispering across his body, banishing pain and fear, caresses tantalising and teasing his shivering skin, probing fingers mischievously exploring his hidden crevices, and he groaned with longing. The dragon quietened, head bowing, and then bent towards Merlin with a gentle sigh before kneeling down before him in submission. Merlin gently touched the beast's head, and unbelievably it spoke in the same unnerving language that Merlin had used, and the words were unknown but the tone was clearly questioning, that of an inferior to its master. Merlin responded with a clear dismissal, which made Arthur's heart crumble with a sudden grief, as if he were being sent away, unloved. And then, in a heartbeat, the dragon raised its leathery wings and launched off the walls, towards the distant clouds.  

Merlin turned back towards Arthur, face stricken and haunted but still imbued with grace and majesty so that Arthur could hardly bear to look at him. Merlin's eyes widened as they took in the impact he and the dragon had had on his King.

"Gods, Arthur," voice breaking, running over to the King, embracing him tenderly, burying his head in Arthur's powerful shoulder. "I'm so sorry, you absolute arse, I told you not to listen, you are a Pendragon see, and I am a dragonlord, but I had no idea you would feel it so strongly, Arthur please, I love you, please Arthur, remember I am yours, I'm so sorry, Arthur, please don't forget, please..." 

He lifted his head from Arthur's shoulder, gently wrapped one hand in Arthur's soft blond hair and pressed his moist lips on the King's. Arthur let loose his grip on his sword at that, and allowed his lips to respond to Merlin's frantic kisses, his tongue darting out to taste the salty sweaty stubble of Merlin's chin, burying his trembling fingers in Merlin's hair, breathing gasps and sobs by turns, unable to read Merlin's face through the shimmering blur of tears.

"You sent me away!" Arthur blurted, brokenly, eyes bloodshot, breath ragged.

"No Arthur, not you, that was the dragon, the other dragon, no no Arthur I could never send you away, I love you remember, oh Gods PLEASE remember Arthur I am yours, now and forever, Arthur, please..." 

"Merlin, your voice, how did you do that to me, what have you done to me? Have you enchanted me?"

Merlin's trembling breath whispered into his mouth. "Your voice has always had that effect on me Arthur," and before Arthur could speak again Merlin's lips had drawn away from his, whispering down Arthur's exposed belly and wrapped themselves around the glistening end of his swollen cock, swooping over it and down it's length. Merlin knelt reverently before Arthur, gently grasped his straining balls with one hand, palmed his own thick stalk with the other. The sight of Merlin's adoring eyes gazing at him through long black lashes, lips distended by the shape of Arthur's rampant penis, with those elegant fingers clenched around his own length, was enough to send Arthur over the edge. He cried out, hips pumping, fucking Merlin's face until his seed spurted in blessed release, Merlin gulping and ejaculating over his own hand, his spent come lying steaming in the cold night air.

And then Merlin fell into a black coma, overwrought, his magic and all his strength spent in dismissing the dragon and comforting his king. Arthur hastily covered their nakedness, and called out for Gwaine, then sank to the cold stone of the castle roof, cradling Merlin gently, face anguished, impotent.

"Merlin," he whispered, "Merlin wake up, I love you, I need you, Merlin come back to me, don't you dare leave me again, do you hear me? Merlin, you are mine, I haven't forgotten, just come back to me now. Merlin, please." But Merlin lay still and pale, unknowing, and Arthur's tears fell unseen onto his face. 


	5. Unbreakable bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur unburdens himself to Gaius as they stand vigil over an unconscious Merlin. Angsty, and a bit fluffy. Awww.

**Unbreakable bonds**

A melancholy procession trailed back down towards the royal apartments, Arthur in the lead, refusing to let anyone else help carry Merlin to his chambers, or indeed to touch him, an entourage of concerned knights in his wake, and Gaius puffing along behind. He yelled for Gaius to follow him, gently laid Merlin on his own bed, and dismissed everyone else with a wave of his arm. 

He settled at the bedside, flinty eyes in a chalky face meeting Gaius's quizzical gaze. "Gaius, what ails him, will he recover?" Despite himself, his voice caught and he gulped, Adam's apple bobbing. Arthur buried his face in his hands while Gaius busied himself around the unconscious sorcerer, feeling his forehead, lifting his unresponding wrist to feel for a pulse. Gaius looked up towards the billowing window and frowned.

"Sire, do you hear anything?"

"Only birds singing Gaius. Can we please work out what is the matter with Merlin?"

"Well that's precisely it, Arthur. It is a midwinter night, but the birds are singing outside your window. This is very puzzling."

Arthur stepped up to the window where he could hear a cacophony of birds singing ecstatically as if it were a spring dawn, and yet the night was still pitch black. 

"Sire, I think these two things are related. Merlin's sickness and the unseasonal birdsong, I mean. There are certain rites of renewal and fertility in the old religion that could do this... and those performing the rite did not always survive. I suppose that it's possible that a very powerful wizard like Merlin could inadvertently... I realise this may be uncomfortable for you sire, but I need you to tell me what exactly happened while you and Merlin were confronting the dragon."

Arthur lifted his head from his hands and stared at Gaius, horrified, flush stealing up from his chest to his face, and then dropped his gaze.

"I... I... Merlin... we..., " he stuttered. Gaius regarded him dispassionately. Arthur tried again, looking anywhere but at Gaius.

"His voice, Gaius. It was like... I couldn't help myself... it was godlike, commanding... I was utterly undone. And he saw it, me I mean, and my... and he... he... comforted me. With... with... um... his mouth... and then he... now... I can't... and my sword as well, it was glowing and then it... and then Merlin... and I..." he said. 

"I see," stated Gaius gravely, kindly. And, mortified, Arthur understood that Gaius did indeed see everything in Arthur's crimson, remorseful face, and had filled in the missing words in his incoherently muttered monologue, and added a few of his own. And then Arthur's eyes were unaccountably blurry with tears again. 

"I owe him everything, Gaius, and what have I ever given him in return?" he whispered, running a tear-streaked hand through his messy blond hair. "Rejection, insults, and now... have I killed him? With - you know..." he turned tortured eyes to the inscrutable physician.

Gaius sighed. As court physician, he'd seen every possible combination of star-crossed lovers in his time, and helped them with all manner of physical and emotional dysfunction; but in terms of inability to articulate his feelings, Arthur was in a league of his own. 

"Arthur," he began gently, "Pardon me for being frank, but Merlin has always been devoted to you. I don't think that you will kill him - or yourself for that matter - by returning his love." 

Arthur's mouth tugged down at the side, and a decidedly unkinglike sob bubbled up in his throat. 

"He is also a great and powerful magician. Possibly the greatest that has ever lived. When he speaks as a dragonlord, a Pendragon has no choice but to respond, body and soul. Perhaps Merlin did not understand this," Gaius's eyes burned into Arthur's. 

Arthur nodded. "He tried to warn me," he whispered shakily. "But I had to listen when he spoke to the dragon... it... he... his voice... was so... compelling"

"Arthur, I will speak plainly. There is an ancient bond between the Pendragons of Camelot and the dragonlords. This bond was severed, unwisely, by Uther's actions, which unbalanced the land. Your body, and Merlin's, feel this bond still - and the strength of Merlin's magic, the sacrifices he has made for you, every time he saved your life and he, yours, these have served to tie you more closely together. And the magical sword he tempered for you in a dragon's breath." A sharp intake of breath betrayed Arthur's surprise at this revelation about Excalibur.

"Oh yes. Arthur Pendragon. You and your sword are bound tight to Merlin; such bonds are not broken lightly.

"But I don't think that is everything. In all his time at Camelot I have never seen Merlin look at a girl in the way he looks at you." Gaius's eyes dropped to Arthur's hand, which was absently stroking Merlin's palm and wrist. 

"It broke his heart when you sent him away," Gaius continued relentlessly.

Arthur remembered how how lost he had felt when Merlin left court, the anguish he felt when Merlin dismissed the dragon, and understood. 

"I made a mistake," he admitted hoarsely. "When I banished him. I... I am incomplete without him. And now he is lost again. Please help me to bring him back Gaius."

"His exile, return and spectacular use of power has taxed him beyond endurance - his mind strays far from us, filled with grief at all that he has lost, and fear at being unmasked and rejected. But I think that you can call him back."

"What must I do?"

Gaius's eyes were like gimlets glittering in the dark, boring through Arthur's soul. And then he stood.

"Speak from your heart to his, Arthur. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain from being honest. What you have told me - and shown me - about your feelings for Merlin gives me hope. But it is not I who needs to know these things."

"Leave us Gaius. I think I know what to do now."

Gaius left the room, and almost fell over Gwaine who was standing outside, anxious frown on his face, listening at the door. "Gwaine!" he hissed. Gwaine jumped out of his skin and then smiled.

"Just wondered if there was anything I could do to help" he whispered innocently.

Merlin's hand felt so cold, his face pale, distant. Cursing and muttering, Arthur removed his sweaty armor clumsily, and stripped down to his underclothes. He then crawled under the covers next to Merlin, pressing his warm body close, rotating Merlin's cold torso onto his side to face away from him, enfolding Merlin from behind, bent at the hip, hot breath caressing the curls of hair on the back of Merlin's neck.

"Merlin," he began gently, voice deep and gruff with pent-up emotion. "Emrys. You have to wake up," he ordered. He brushed his hand tenderly across Merlin's hips and waist. This was so difficult. Discussing mixed-up feelings was not Arthur's strong point. Still, he had to do this, had to bring Merlin back, the alternative was unthinkable. He shuffled his hips closer to Merlin's, realising that he was growing hard again, and finding it impossible to resist nuzzling those taut buttocks with his growing prick. He pulled back hastily, ashamed of himself for being tempted to take advantage of the situation.

"Merlin, please wake up," he pleaded. "You are mine, and I am yours. Remember?" And then, heartbroken,

"I need you. Fuck it Merlin, you halfwitted wizard, you complete me. Don't you dare die."

He sighed and half-turned away, tearing up again. This was not working. 

And then he realised that Merlin's shoulders were shaking. "Merlin?"

Understanding dawned. Humiliation wrestled with joy and both were overtaken by fury. Arthur punched the laughing sorcerer on the arm. "How long have you been awake you lazy, rude, impossible..." and laughing through his tears he looked around for a potential missile.  

"You were doing so well Arthur, for an emotional cripple that is, don't spoil it now! Halfwitted wizard indeed - you know I'm deeply touched." Merlin's lips twisted in an ironic smile, even as the tears welled in his azure eyes, and Arthur grew harder, remembering the sight of those perfect lips sliding along his cock. He quirked a lopsided smile and leaned down to press his open lips to Merlin's, clumsily entangling his feet in the covers in the process, and neatly falling off the bed.

"You are mine Arthur Pendragon, I heard you say it, now show me." purred Merlin, diving after him. Arthur's knees buckled  at the echo of dragonlord power in Merlin's voice; he dragged Merlin down to the floor, and the two men rolled among the wreckage of the bedclothes, laughing and cursing, kissing passionately, dragging down each other's breeches, stripping each other naked, hands stroking and caressing, lips and tongues urgently entangled, gasping at the feeling of cold hard stone and hot yielding skin.    

Arthur struggled up and straddled Merlin, hip to hip, grabbing at the bedclothes still wrapped around him, grabbed a pillow from under his head and whacked him soundly around the ears with it. Merlin, eyes flashing gold, turned the pillow into a startled dove which flew out of the window. Then, panting in the sudden silence that followed this small but significant display of power the two of them became aware of whispered bickering outside the door. Arthur threw a fallen cup at the door bellowing, 

"Gaius and Gwaine I can hear your heavy breathing, get out of there before Merlin turns you into a frog,"

Gaius and Gwaine jumped and coughed. Gaius turned to Gwaine and put his hand over his shoulder, steering him away, the two of them pinking at the incoherent yet joyful sounds now emanating from the King's bedchamber. 

"Actually Gwaine? There might be something you can do."

"What?"

Gaius sighed. "You can work out what the hell we're going to tell Gwen."


End file.
